


Soul song

by Fox_Pause



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Derek and Stiles are Mates, Drums, Fluff, Full Shift Werewolves, Hale Family Feels, Happy Ending, Inspired By Tumblr, Inspired by Music, M/M, Magic Stiles, Magic instruments, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mating, Music, Musical Instruments, No Sex, One Shot, POV Derek, POV Stiles, Short & Sweet, Snow, Soul-Searching, Soulmates, The Hale Fire, Tracking, Were-Creatures, Winter, Wolf Derek, hang drum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-07 23:51:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4282707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fox_Pause/pseuds/Fox_Pause
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He finds the smaller human footprints before him, and decides to follow them deep into the woods.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soul song

**Author's Note:**

> So. Soulmates are a thing now.
> 
> Each line symbolizes the POV switch. This fic begins with Derek's POV fyi.  
> \-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> This Fic was completely inspired by the hang drum.  
> If you've never heard a hang drum before, check this video out, it'll give you a good idea of what Stiles' playing sounds like. -> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yYF415wnZ0w

It’s when he’s making his way slowly back home, muzzle dripping with the familiar warm crimson liquid from a rabbit, freshly slain, that his ears swivel towards a beat, a faint vibration echoing through the forest. He follows the pull that’s wrapped itself so tightly around his heart, into the forest. Searching for the source of the noise.

He slowly saunters through the forest, unsure of his destination. His trail messy and uncertain. The white powder snow lightly compresses under his big, black paws. He can barely feel the winter chill anymore. He keeps his ears perked up, listening to the somewhat tribal music calling his name. It vaguely reminds him of home.

He finds the smaller human footprints before him, and decides to follow them deep into the woods, supposedly leading him to the source of the music. The sound seems to fill the forest’s silence with beautiful notes, too loud to be missed and too quiet to be overwhelming. Each gentle beat lulls Derek into a strange trance, filling him with a warm, bubbly feeling he hasn’t felt in _years_. The soft vibrations rebound from tree to tree, colliding with one another mid-air, forming an entirely new note, literally filling the air with tiny vibrations of a sound only his ears can detect. It’s like the bittersweet melody was intended just for him. Bittersweet, because while the melody is everything he’s ever wished for, dreamed of becoming, it also reminds him of his family. Their voices, both loud and hushed. Their smiles and the way their eyes would dance with tears of joy. Laughter so bright, it would light up a room.

So he follows the trail, captivated by its beauty and simplicity.

* * *

 

He waits, quietly kneeled in the forest. For a sign. A hint. Waiting patiently for the beginning of a melody so sweet, his true love will come waltzing weightlessly through the clearing.

He’s surrounded by white flecks of snow that’ve been dipping slowly from the overcast sky for an untold amount of time. He’s covered in a pristine cloak of snow that shudders with every movement. He kneels before his hang drum, passed down through the generations. He hunches over the drum, praying, begging the gods for help. The drum is thought to be intertwined with strong magic, supposedly, to lull your soulmate closer. So far, not a single note sounds right, no combination or grouping seems true to himself. It all sounds so dreadfully, uncontrollably, wrong.

So he sits some more, passing time staring idly at the dents in the drum. He taps the drum every now and then, just to see if there’s something wrong, no matter how small, with the instrument. He tries to play it gently, like his mother taught him, but none of sounds he manages to strangle out of it even come close to the elegant symphony she was able to orchestrate. He wishes she were here now. To tell him what he’s doing wrong, how to intertwine his soul with the music, how to stop the notes from sounding _wonky_.

He gets frustrated. This is supposed to be magic. It’s supposed to work, damn it!

He lays down soundlessly in the snow, back welcoming the sudden chill that runs along his spine so sweetly. He throws his arm over his face, shielding his eyes from the winter glare. He sleeps.

When he wakes, he’s covered in a thick blanket of snow. He lays completely still. He keeps his eyes closed for a long time, listening intently to the beauty of the world around him. He hears the heavy beat of owl’s wings, the scampering of mice under the shelter of snow. He hears the movement of the river, gliding easily over stones, slowly chiselling away at rock to make a bigger path for itself. He hears the gentle thrum of trees as they grow, the steady, unchanging melody that makes the entire forest seem _alive_ despite the desolation winter beings. He hears the chime of snowflakes as they collide with one another, re-freeze together and beginning a new dance, so delicate a gentle wind could destroy their splendour. In truth, he listens to winter and its beauty. He sits up abruptly, limbs flailing; he’s found his melody.

He plays with unexpected calmness, unrivalled concentration etched deep into his features. However, the gestures he uses to create the gentle rhythm are anything but calm. He strikes at the instrument boldly, copying winter and its brutality, somehow producing a transcendent, enchanting yet simple tune. This feels right in a way that’s so intimate, nothing could be closer to perfection.

* * *

 

He follows the sound of home all the way to the edge of a large clearing, forcing himself to stop and take in his surroundings. The wind has completely died down now, making the cold winters night surprisingly pleasant. The sky is a thin sheet of clouds. Through it, you can see the subtle glow stars thousands of light-years away. It’s the largest clearing by far, but it’s also where the melody is the strongest. The pull in his heart begs him to continue his journey. ‘Just a little further’ ‘You’re almost there’, it pleads with him. It doesn’t take long for him to travel the short distance.

The next time he looks up, there’s a small, vibrant human covered in snow, knelt before a large metal sphere, striking various dents in a rhythm that feels so natural it _must_ belong to the forest. He carefully crawls over to the boy, keeping his body low to the ground, ears pressed against his skull so he doesn’t frighten the boy, making himself look as small and friendly as possible.

He’s lying down in front of the boy now, the drum the only thing keeping them from touching. The boy hasn’t looked up once yet, so Derek isn’t sure whether he knows he’s there or not. He gazes at the boy, immediately taken with the masterpiece before him. He’s everything Derek could’ve wished for, and more.

He gradually inches forward, folding his paws gently over the freshly fallen snow so he doesn’t make a sound. He’s careful to make no sudden movements; he doesn’t want to accidently frighten the boy and his music away. He’s barely a hairs length away when he moves forward again, his heart’s pounding and the pads of his paws are _sweating_.

He gingerly presses the tip of his nose to the boy’s knee. The boy blinks rapidly, as if breaking out of a trance and looks down to Derek, to the wolf. A quick intake of breath and his heartrate skyrockets. His pupils dilate and his nostrils flare. He stares at Derek for the longest time, blinking his churning amber eyes rapidly in disbelief before simply lunging forward, desperately clutching at the wolf, as if Derek might vanish at any second, drum completely forgotten. Derek simply sits there, stunned. He too fears that the gorgeous boy holding him so tightly might disappear. He still doesn’t believe that this beautifully skinny, fragile, defenceless human could be his mate. His.

So the two sit in silence, the world forgotten. The boy clutches his wolf close to him, as the wolf sits in silence wondering how he got this lucky. They sit until the sun comes up, and then some more.

Then, the wolf takes his boy home.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So there you go, my first one shot! Hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it (which was a lot) :D. 
> 
> I know hang drums are relatively new to the music world, but I couldn't resist writing them as an old, ancient instrument used to lure your soul mate to you. Make sure to let me know what you though of my fic in the comments below, and If I've made any spelling mistakes, make sure to tell me about those too.
> 
> Thanks to those of you who choose to leave a kudos, It means a lot <3


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